Post by faithless on Dec 10, 2006 11:30:14 GMT -5
below is a story i wrote after playing the Russian campaign of call of duty 2 again. that was my source of inspiration, everything else is pretty much form Jin-Roh and Gunz.
Tobin gripped the rifle in his hands, had he not been wearing gloves you'd of seen his knuckles white form the pressure. it did little to calm him nerves, as his hands still jittered and jumped in odd directions at odd moments. He had most of his body weight pressed against whats left of a grey brick wall, along with the other people who decided to take up arms. The man nearest the corner peered around it, holding his breath so it didn't mist in the cold autumn air. apparently seeing nothing, he swept his hand low across the ground, motioning the others forward. One by one people shuffled along the wall, careful not to kick around a loose brick and give thsemvles away. they didn't walk by in the uniforms of soldiers, but in the shirts and coats of the common man. None of them had training, only the desire to stand and fight for whats left of their land.
2 days ago Molly had been carrying around loaves of bread, with a smile that would warm you when her bread could not. Today, she held a rifle with an angered yet somehow level stare. Zechial once used the axe in his hands to split more wood then any other man in town. he now used it to split imperials. Tobin himself layed down his scythe and came form the fields to help. Right before Tobin reached the corner of the wall, a burst of machinegun fire ripped through the would-be-soldiers. Andrea and William were the first to fall, bullets ripping through their bodies, spraying their blood on the faces of those behind them. Tobin peeked around the corner as much as the bullets pinging off the wall would allow. his eyes saw nothing but blood, and his ears were ringing from the now silent machinegun. He couldn't move. his eyes were fixated on the slaughter, his mind void of everything but hatred. this hatred turned to fear, as when he turned around, he was staring down teh barrel of a rifle in the hands of an imperial soldier. he grinned at tobin, started down teh sights at him, and adjusted his grip on the trigger. Tobin was paralyzed. he watched as the black gloved finger slowly tighter on the piece of metal, that would send him to an early grave. Tobin's eyes closed involuntarily, and waited for the sound of the shot. in a plsit second he heard it, and another quickly after the bullet grazing his cheek, a warm liquod splashing over his face
His eyes opened quickly, and saw the soldier falling to the ground, a hole replacing one of his eyes. when he fell, where he stood was Tobin's brother, the smoking barrel of a pistol raised to where the imperials head would would of been.
Tobin gripped the rifle in his hands, had he not been wearing gloves you'd of seen his knuckles white form the pressure. it did little to calm him nerves, as his hands still jittered and jumped in odd directions at odd moments. He had most of his body weight pressed against whats left of a grey brick wall, along with the other people who decided to take up arms. The man nearest the corner peered around it, holding his breath so it didn't mist in the cold autumn air. apparently seeing nothing, he swept his hand low across the ground, motioning the others forward. One by one people shuffled along the wall, careful not to kick around a loose brick and give thsemvles away. they didn't walk by in the uniforms of soldiers, but in the shirts and coats of the common man. None of them had training, only the desire to stand and fight for whats left of their land.
2 days ago Molly had been carrying around loaves of bread, with a smile that would warm you when her bread could not. Today, she held a rifle with an angered yet somehow level stare. Zechial once used the axe in his hands to split more wood then any other man in town. he now used it to split imperials. Tobin himself layed down his scythe and came form the fields to help. Right before Tobin reached the corner of the wall, a burst of machinegun fire ripped through the would-be-soldiers. Andrea and William were the first to fall, bullets ripping through their bodies, spraying their blood on the faces of those behind them. Tobin peeked around the corner as much as the bullets pinging off the wall would allow. his eyes saw nothing but blood, and his ears were ringing from the now silent machinegun. He couldn't move. his eyes were fixated on the slaughter, his mind void of everything but hatred. this hatred turned to fear, as when he turned around, he was staring down teh barrel of a rifle in the hands of an imperial soldier. he grinned at tobin, started down teh sights at him, and adjusted his grip on the trigger. Tobin was paralyzed. he watched as the black gloved finger slowly tighter on the piece of metal, that would send him to an early grave. Tobin's eyes closed involuntarily, and waited for the sound of the shot. in a plsit second he heard it, and another quickly after the bullet grazing his cheek, a warm liquod splashing over his face
His eyes opened quickly, and saw the soldier falling to the ground, a hole replacing one of his eyes. when he fell, where he stood was Tobin's brother, the smoking barrel of a pistol raised to where the imperials head would would of been.